


Denial

by GeekWithTea



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Broken Bones, Gaslighting, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Medical Procedures, Medical Torture, Medical Trauma, One Shot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Sans and Papyrus need therapy, Suicide Attempt, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, prequel to My Best (Hated) Father (Monster), the comfort is in chapter 11 of MBHFM but you got to go through 10 chapters of H E L L to get there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 19:38:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19775017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekWithTea/pseuds/GeekWithTea
Summary: Papyrus remembers Gaster while helping his brother in the aftermath of another alcohol fueled rampage. (Note: prequel to MBHFM, but if you haven't read it, this is a Badster pre-canon fic.)





	Denial

**Author's Note:**

> 3 years later, and I still have readers for the first one which shocks me. I figured I might as well write that side piece I was interested in that I alluded to at the end of MBHFM. Thanks for being great!

Mornings stank of alcohol since Gaster had been erased. Papyrus had always been an early riser, but now it was of necessity. Lab testing began at 6 or started at midnight depending on how Gaster’s insomnia was affecting him. Papyrus rubbed the alcohol on his exposed hand. The left stayed on because as the syringe went into the permanently chipped spot, he’d rather only remember the good of the tests.  
Slight orange liquid mixed with marrow filled the needle. This used to hurt, but Papyrus was far more careful with himself than Gaster had been. Opening the safe, he read the instructions once more. This in reality was memorized but he refused to make a mistake. Cooking was an art, medicine a science. Measuring out the painkiller, muscle relaxant, and anti-nausea medication, he added it into the top of the needle. Looking into the bag, he grimaced. He was out of sharps. No matter. It wasn’t like there’d be an extra disease that wasn’t already in his marrow. Slipping the cap over the needle point, he walked downstairs.  
Beer bottles were strewn through the living room. The TV crackled, and Papyrus was stunned that he hadn’t woken to the destruction that led to the hole in the TV. Papers littered the room, scrawled with barely legible handwriting.

“Don’t forget.”

“Don’t fucking forget!”

However, the biggest reminder took his breath away. Written in chalk and marks on the wall, it screamed “You erased him!” Papyrus wryly wished he had but at the same time but shook his head. This was not an accusation towards him.

Sans looked far more peaceful than the mess surrounding him. Well…that was the wrong word. If monsters died like humans, Sans would be declared deceased. Papyrus had wondered what Sans had decided to do that would leave him lying in that position. His arm was clearly broken, his leg was twisted in a way that suggested it might be too. Doing a quick read, he examined his HP. 0.5/1.0. 

Had…Sans tried to kill himself again? There were easier ways for monsters to kill themselves than throwing themselves off balconies, but of course those might have been harder to remember after 6…no, 8…12 beers. He’d figure that out later. Papyrus flicked out an air bubble and injected it into the forearm. His HP climbed, and while it would take something else to fix the broken body, the soul was accounted for. He went to the kitchen and grabbed two large spaghetti wooden spoons and four rags. Gaster had taught him this. After all, people would ask questions if Papyrus’s arm fell off.

With the splints tied perfectly, he lifted his older brother in his arms. Opening the bedroom, he was greeted by an image of the older man. Shivering at the reminder, he put Sans back into bed, and changing his stained shirt for good measure. A rib was near split in half, but thankfully it was the same one as before.

When Papyrus had first done this at 16, he had wept. Now, he eyed it with a sympathetic tiredness and picked at his own injection wound to make sure it wouldn’t heal. Moving a bucket into the room by his bedside, he looked at the wounds and began the treatment. The crack of resetting bones used to send him for the bucket, but this had been the 400th day since Gaster had disappeared. Needless to say, he could probably do better as a paramedic than a member of the Royal Guard. The idea of medicine and science still felt violating though, and he would take a month of friendly bruises and suplexes over memories of the damn gurney.

“…pap?”

“BROTHER!” Papyrus nearly jumped out of his bones. Sans tended to wake up after a few minutes…did the anti-nausea medicine not work? Hopefully the painkiller was working because this was going to be a bad time otherwise.

“…how bad did i fuck up this time?” The voice was hollow, and Papyrus checked the HP. It was at 1.0 still. Determination bursts last longer than the emotional boost, thankfully.

“I WOULD LIKE TO SAY NOT AT ALL, BUT THEN DEAR BROTHER, I’D BE A LIAR-BUT JUST THIS TIME. NONE OF THAT “I’M ALWAYS A FUCK-UP” NONSENSE YOU SPEW.” He tried to sound a bit jovial. No need for two of them to be…well, openly depressed. “YOUR ARM, LEG AND A SINGLE RIB ARE BROKEN, AND THEREFORE I WILL CONCEDE THAT THIS ONE PARTICULAR NIGHT WAS A “FUCK-UP”.” He grinned, but he knew that it wouldn’t get through.

“….hmph…” Sans murmured under his breath. “WHAT? NO AWFUL JOKE TO MAKE ME REGRET MY EXISTENCE?” If he knew he’d be begging for puns a year earlier, he’d have thrown himself into the core. Of course, Sans lifted his arm up and pointed down at himself. Papyrus took a deep breath, trying to keep it together.

“YOU KNOW SANS, I’M NOT A DOCTOR, AND YOU ARE A DOC-“

“papyrus. don’t say that.” Papyrus’ soul panged. He still remembered Sans running across the stage with his doctorate, screaming about the best day of his life with Alphys yelling at him for having the audacity to recommend people skip Mew Mew Kissy Cutie in favour of the sequel in his speech. Times had changed, and he hated it.

“…MY POINT STILL STANDS THAT YOU NEED A MEDICAL DOCTOR SANS.”

“…no. i’ll be committed.” Once again, Papyrus felt those sins crawl against his back, but once again, he couldn’t commit to being a good brother. “I AM SURE THAT…”

“oh yeah. that’s a great idea pap. ‘hey doc, i want to fucking die because the greatest monster that ever existed died and literally no one remembers him so i drink to oblivion for fucking abandoning the dad that did so much for me who the world just played a big-ass practical joke on old sansy here and doesn’t fucking remember him.”

It should be easy to tell his brother that he remembers. Maybe pretend he saw a dream of a memory to explain lying these 400 days. How many of these problems would go away if he was just honest? However, panic and nausea clamored together with memories of long, stabbing needles and violent shaking from pump after pump of chemical and extractions.  
So instead, he lit that gas one more fucking time. “NONSENSE. GRIEF DOES THINGS TO MONSTERS. IF YOU REALLY MISS THIS…PERSON, YOU SHOULD TALK ABOUT HIM.” Not to me please, he added selfishly. “BESIDES, THE ALCOHOL AND BROKEN BONES CAN BE LOOKED AT.”

Sans laughed, but it wasn’t genuine. In fact, it hurt. “i know you think i’m crazy but damn, you’re an idiot.”

Idiot.

Idiot.

I d i o t…

“I DID AS MUCH AS I CAN TO FIX THOSE BONES. JUST REST AND…PLEASE LAY OFF THE BOOZE…NOW…I HAVE TO CLEAN THE LIVING ROOM.” Shuffling out of the room, he walked away from the skeleton in bed. Sans…wasn’t himself he reminded himself. Hungover, no doubt in pain and in sorrow; this wasn’t his brother. In fact, he hadn’t…been this cruel since…well he couldn’t remember.

“…oh god pap…i’m so sorry…you’re a good man, you don’t deserve this…”

Good man. Sweet boy. Idiot. Wasn’t much difference when it came to Papyrus Serif. “IT’S OKAY BROTHER. I KNOW YOU DIDN’T MEAN IT.” Didn’t make it false though.  
Silently, he began to scoop the bottles and papers into the recycling, letting the silent tears fall once more to the carpet.


End file.
